


Flower Shop AU: Galactic Blossoms

by galaxyartist4



Category: Treasure Planet (2002)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Dreams, Flashbacks, Implied Sexual Content, Language of Flowers, Love Confessions, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-04 14:39:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10281146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxyartist4/pseuds/galaxyartist4
Summary: Flower Shop AU for Jim and Silver from Treasure PlanetThis fic is from the prompt on tumblr by onetruepairingideashttp://onetruepairingideas.tumblr.com/post/145937634716/flower-shop-auand it's for Wuff/sorasusi the coolest dude everM for possible future stuff~





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wuffen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wuffen/gifts).



> If there are any typos or grammar mistakes or incorrect flower language stuff or any mistakes or places where Silver's accent could be better please let me knoww~
> 
> I hope you like it

           

            Slanted beams of sunlight filtered through the large shop windows, illuminating the buckets of flowers crowded together on the floor. Halos of color glowed around each of the bright blooms and cast rainbow light all over the small shop. The door creaked gently in the morning breeze. Clicking and whirring filled the room.

            The owner of the shop sat behind the counter, humming to himself as he turned a page in a small, dusty book. He scratched the back of his neck lazily with a thick, claw-tipped finger. Half-moon reading glasses glittered near the end of his large nose, flashing as he shifted in his seat. A heavy gold ring swung in his left earlobe.

            The clicking and whirring came from the machinery joined to the big man’s suede-like skin. Sunlight glanced off the smooth metal of his cybernetic right arm and the gears on the side of his head. He straightened his cybernetic leg thoughtfully, mumbling to himself as it creaked. His right eye glowed gold, moving with his organic eye as he read. Absentmindedly, he stroked the side of his chair with the pads of his cybernetic fingers. The bell above the door frame tinkled.

            Soft chiming issued from a large and ancient-looking grandfather clock standing in a corner. The big, bear-like man looked up for a moment, then returned to his book. The bell tinkled again.

            A breeze ruffled the big man’s rusty, reddish brown hair as a shadow fell across the pages of his book. A hand smacked down on the counter, startling him and leaving a handful of gold and silver coins on the polished wood. Removing the glasses from the end of his nose, the owner slowly stood up, looked down at the coins, then looked into a pair of shockingly blue eyes set beneath heavy brows. The eyes narrowed slightly under his gaze.

            “You know this flower language stuff, right?” The young man sounded irritated as he spoke, his voice gruff. “How do I passive-aggressively say ‘fuck you’ in flower?”

            The owner looked taken aback. “Er…” he grunted. The young man rolled his bright blue eyes.

            “Y’know, how do I tell someone I hate them in flower language? If you can’t do it I’ll look somewhere else, I’m gonna be late for my class.” The owner chuckled and set down his book, then came out from behind the counter, dusting off his apron.

            “Aye, lad, calm down. Give me jus’ a moment.” The big man moved smoothly between the buckets and vases of flowers, selecting a handful of different blooms before returning to the counter. Deftly, he snipped the ends of the stems and stuck them into little water capsules, then arranged the blossoms carefully. The young man watched with interest.

            “These ‘ere pink ones are geraniums, fer stupidity,” the big man explained as he tied a black ribbon around the bouquet, “These white fuzzy-lookin’ ones are meadowsweet, fer uselessness. These yellow ones are carnations, they mean ‘ya have disappointed me.’” The big man grinned as he continued. “Combined wit’ the others, these foxgloves mean insincerity, and finally, these orange ones, lilies, are fer hatred.”  He finished wrapping the bouquet in black paper, and tied it with a flourish.

            “Which unlucky sap is this goin’ to?” He asked, grinning toothily, and handed the bouquet to the young man. The blue eyes sparked as the young man scowled and jerked up his chin, a pale flush spreading over his cheeks. “Why do you wanna know?”

            Still grinning, the big man shrugged and counted out the coins on the counter.

            “Jus’ curious. Ya have no reason to tell an ol’ codger like me,” he said placidly, pushing three silver coins and a gold one back toward the young man. “M’ name’s Silver, by th’ way.” The bear-like man smiled as he sat down, picking up his reading glasses and setting them on his nose again. The young man scooped up the coins and slid them into his pocket, grunted his thanks, and left. Silver watched bemusedly as the young man hurried past the window with one hand over his mouth, ears glowing pink. His other hand clutched the bouquet to his chest.

            Silver chuckled and turned back to his book.

            “I’m still curious ‘bout who that bouquet was for,” he mumbled to himself.

 

* * *

 

                      The next day, the young man was back. He was carrying a guitar and looked quite a bit happier than he had the day before.

            “It worked! He stopped bothering me after I gave him the bouquet!” Silver looked up over the tops of his reading glasses, amused.

            “Who, now?” He inquired, setting down his book.

            “That’s not important,” the young man said quickly, “What’s important is that he’ll leave me alone now.” He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and smiled.

            “What’s yer name, lad?” Silver asked, hoisting up a watering can and heading toward a group of flowers growing in green pots.

His metal arm gleamed as he moved, and the young man’s eyes followed the cybernetic limb.

            “I’m Jim,” the boy said, eyes still glued to the steel.

            “Jimbo,” Silver hummed, sprinkling a pot of deep blue flowers with water. The boy made a noncommittal noise and shrugged. He opened his mouth, then stopped, looking embarrassed. Silver turned around and eyed him curiously.

            “I... I just wanted to say thanks, y’know, for helping me out yesterday,” Jim muttered, looking thoroughly embarrassed. Silver stared as a faint blush colored his cheeks.

            “It’s alright, lad, come back anytime,” Silver rumbled, returning his attention to his flowers, “I’m near always open.”

            The grandfather clock in the corner of the shop began to chime, and Jim swore, turning quickly and almost overbalancing.

            “I’m gonna be late!” He ran out the door without a backwards glance. Silver watched the door swing back and forth for a moment, then began to hum to himself.

 

            The rest of the day passed quietly for Silver. He sat, reading for most of the time. A few customers entered the shop, some looking for specific arrangements and other just browsing, drawn in by the intricate bouquets in the window. A couple walked in to admire the paintings on the walls.

            “Did you paint these?” The woman asked. Silver smiled shyly, showing the gap in his front teeth.

            “Aye, that I did,” he replied, setting down his book, “Most o’ these are from dreams I’ve had.”

            “This is beautiful,” the man said, gesturing at a particularly large painting. Silver gazed at the painting, remembering the vivid dream that had inspired the image.

            The painting depicted a boy, silhouetted against the starry galaxy, kneeling on the end of a wooden bowsprit. The boy’s hair blew around his face, and the light from the stars reflected in his eyes.

            “How much are you asking for it?” Silver was jolted out of his daydream.

            “‘S not for sale.” He grinned apologetically. “Too much sentimental value.”

            The couple nodded, looking disappointed, but made no further inquiry. They continued to browse around the shop for a couple minutes before leaving.

            The grandfather clock chimed four, and Silver stood up, groaning loudly. He stomped over to the front door, cybernetic leg creaking slightly as it moved. In the doorway, he stopped.

            Faint music floated down the street toward him. He looked around for the source, rubbing the side of his neck.

            The young man, Jim, sat on a short stool across the street, half a block down. He was playing his guitar, fingers dancing expertly over the neck of the instrument. A line of the song reached Silver’s ears.

 

            _I want a moment to be real, wanna touch things I don’t feel..._

 

            Silver leaned against the door frame to listen, closing his eyes. After a moment, he heard the music falter. He opened his eyes and looked over at the young man. Jim was determinedly staring in the opposite direction, but his ears had turned pink. Silver shrugged, listened for another minute, then turned the ‘Open’ sign in the door to ‘Closed.’ He shut the door and locked it, then found another key on his key ring. He went to unlock the door a couple feet to his right, but paused as the music floating down the street changed.

            The tune had become strange, achingly sweet, and beautiful. Silver couldn’t move. His hand hovered over the door handle, frozen in place. For a moment, he was staring over the rail of a ship into deep space, the smell of pipe smoke filling his nose. Then he shook his head to clear the image, and opened his door.

 

            Jim watched as the door swung shut behind the big man and exhaled, letting out the air that had caught in his chest. He finished the song he was playing and put his guitar back in its case. His hands shook slightly, and he stared at them, nonplussed. He couldn’t figure out why the big, bear-like owner of the flower shop made his heart jump erratically around under his ribs, or why his face felt hot whenever he met the man’s steady, uneven gaze.

            Jim stared at the door where Silver had disappeared, chewing his lip in a distracted manner. Suddenly, he stood up and grabbed his guitar case, then made his way down the block, toward the book store. He pushed open the door and walked up to the counter.

            “Do you have a book on flowers and their meanings?”

 

* * *

 

             Silver opened his front door and stepped out, yawning as the door shut behind him. He turned and locked it, then walked to the shop. The sun had already risen all the way above the horizon. Early morning light illuminated a small sunflower lying on the doorstep of the flower shop. Silver stooped and picked it up, turning it over in his huge hands. There was no note attached.

            “Looks like I’ve gotten m’self a secret admirer,” Silver mused. Chuckling, he unlocked the shop door. He placed the sunflower in a vase on the windowsill next to the counter, then picked up his book. Creaks issued from his cybernetic leg as he lowered himself into the chair behind the desk.

            “I gotta remember to get that checked,” Silver muttered to himself as he set his reading glasses onto the bridge of his nose, and began to read.

 

            Later that day, the grandfather clock chimed four, and a breeze tickled the back of Silver’s neck. He turned around and saw Jim edging through the partially opened door. Jim started when he saw Silver looking in his direction and scowled, color spreading over his cheekbones. Silver greeted him pleasantly and returned to his flowers. He could hear the young man’s feet move across the floor, stopping occasionally next to different displays.

            Silver himself loved the colorful flower arrangements. Sometimes he would come into the shop early just to move them about into new patterns. His favorite patterns were inspired by the sky. Arrays of sunset colored flowers sat together, glowing in the early morning light. A few pale yellow and white flowers shone in a sea of dark blue blossoms, half hidden by shadow. Clusters of fuzzy white flowers drifted in between pale blue arrangements.

            A small gasp issued from behind the big, bear-like man, causing him to jump slightly. He turned to look for the source and saw Jim staring, transfixed, at the painting on the wall.

            “Are ye alright, lad?” Silver asked, confused. Jim nodded vaguely, mouth slightly open and eyes wide, but he didn’t move. Silver put down his watering can and grasped Jim’s shoulder with his organic hand. The touch seemed to wake Jim from his stupor.

            “I’m fine!” He sputtered, shaking off Silver’s hand. “I actually wanted to ask you to make an arrangement for me. See, it’s my mom’s birthday today and I wanted to give her a bouquet. She loves flowers.” His expression became insolent as Silver chuckled.

            “Aye, laddy, I t’ink I can do that fer ye.” Jim’s bright blue eyes followed Silver as he walked around the shop, gathering a small bunch of roses and lilies in his hands. Returning to the counter, Silver expertly wrapped the bouquet in pale pink paper and tied it with a white ribbon, then handed it to Jim. Jim dropped several silver coins onto the counter, muttering his thanks. He opened his mouth for a moment, closed it again, and hurried out of the shop.

            Silver watched him walk past the window. Jim glanced through the window and met Silver’s mismatched eyes. The big man winked, wiggling his cybernetic fingers in Jim’s direction, and color painted the young man’s face. He ducked his head and ran out of sight.

            “What a strange lad,” Silver murmured, picking up a white, many-petalled flower and turning it in his fingers. He glanced at the painting on the wall and sighed, setting the flower back into its vase. The same scene had played before his eyes the previous night. Silver could almost feel the wind against his face and see bright blue eyes looking into his with a trust he could hardly fathom. Clearing his throat, he tried to will away the pangs that tugged at his heart. The faint halo of light around the small sunflower caught his eye and he frowned, considering the blossom. The clock chimed five. Silver gently scooped up the flower and its vase and headed toward the shop door.

            Once he had entered his apartment, the big man set the sunflower on the sill of the single large window facing the street. He dropped onto the bed with a moan, and put his head in his mismatched hands. His mind was spinning. The image just beyond his mind’s reach was blurry and strange. Stars sparkled around him. A phantom weight pressed against his stomach.

            Silver pressed mismatched hands to his midriff over the place where he could still feel the phantom weight and fell back onto the bed, closing his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

 

            Jim pushed open the door, clutching the bouquet to his chest.

            “Mom?” he called. He heard a faint answer from the kitchen. Dropping his bag, Jim jogged toward the voice, grinning broadly. “Mom, happy birthday!” He burst into the kitchen, dropping the bouquet onto the counter and grabbing his mother around the waist. Singing exuberantly, he swung her around, causing her to drop the spoon she was holding and screech in surprise. Once she had recovered, she hugged him back.

            “These are for you,” Jim said, bowing, and presenting the bouquet to her with a flourish.

            “Oh Jim,” his mother’s eyes filled with tears, “You shouldn’t have…”

            “But you love them,” Jim wheedled, wrapping her hands around the bouquet.

            “Of course I do,” she said, and buried her face in the bouquet, inhaling happily. They smiled at each other.

            “Happy birthday again, mom. I’m going out into the garden, I’ll be there if you need me.”

            “What’s this new fascination with my flower garden?” His mother looked at him quizzically. Jim tried to stop the flush rising in his cheeks.

            “It’s nothing… they’re pretty,” Jim said evasively, not meeting her eyes. She smiled, and patted his cheek, then picked up the spoon she had dropped.

            “I’ll call you if I need you,” she told him. Jim nodded and wandered out into the garden, scooping a small book off the table on his way out.

            Sinking onto the ground between clumps of flowers, Jim sighed and opened the book. Each page showed a beautifully illustrated flower, with its name, properties, and meanings in the flower language. Flipping through the pages, he stopped at a page showing a small sunflower and sighed again.

            “Dwarf sunflower, for admiration,” he murmured. The scent of flowers filtered through the air, settling over Jim. Inhaling, he lay back and closed his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

            Silver woke with a start. A patch of gray light shone on the ground, telling him that it was barely morning. He grunted and got out of bed, stretching languidly. Yawning, he walked over to the window and opened it, breathing in the warm air.

            “‘S gonna be a hot one today,” he muttered to himself.

 

* * *

 

 

            The sun beat down on the back of Jim’s neck as he walked toward the flower shop. His heart began to flutter as he neared the door, and he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. Hitching his bag higher onto his shoulder, he pushed open the door. The scent of flowers met Jim’s nose and he inhaled, a smile of pleasure spreading over his face. A large figure moved in the shadows, a glitter of gold light swinging around to look in Jim’s direction. Jim jumped.

            “Shut that door behind ye, lad.”

            Jim turned and shut the door. It was cooler inside the building than it was outside. As he turned around again, his eyes fell on the shop owner, who had just stepped into the light. Jim’s mouth practically fell open.

            A bead of sweat ran down Silver’s broad face. His chestnut-colored hair was tousled and slightly damp around his forehead. He had swapped his usual shirt for a tank top that fit him like a glove. Jim could see some gnarled scar tissue between the shirt material and where the metal of his cybernetic arm met flesh. Thick muscles rippled under the suede-like skin of his organic arm. Jim gulped. Spreading over the big man’s massive bicep was a stunning, intricate watercolor tattoo of an arrangement of flowers. The colors were bright, even against his tan skin. Jim couldn’t quite tell what kind of flowers were in the bouquet, but the beauty of the art took his breath away.

           

            _I want… to touch it...?_

 

            Jim shoved the thought away hastily, and tried not to imagine what the big man’s skin would feel like under his fingertips. Struggling to keep his face blank, he stepped further into the shop.

            “I, uh, wanted to thank you again, my mom loved the flowers,” Jim said, avoiding eye contact. Silver chuckled, and Jim couldn’t help but notice how the big man’s belly jiggled as he laughed.

            “Ah, any time Jimbo,” Silver said, still chuckling. Jim gulped again and took a step back.

            “Thanks,” Jim blurted out, and ran out of the shop, closing the door behind him. He paused, and glanced back through the window. Silver was scrubbing at a spot of dirt on the counter, facing away from him.

            Jim’s eyes slid over the sloping curve of the big man’s back and over his broad organic shoulder, hovering over the tapestry of flowers on his arm.

 

            _Oh god._

 

            Jim covered his mouth, blushing furiously. After a moment, he walked over to the door that he knew led to Silver’s apartment, and dug around in his bag. Pulling out a container, he popped the lid off and took out a sprig of purple lilac flowers. A gentle breeze blew his hair around his face as he placed the sprig on the doorstep. Hastily standing up, he looked around to make sure no one was watching him, then jogged away.

 

* * *

 

 

            Silver stared down at the purple flowers sitting on his doorstep. He felt warmth creep up his neck that was completely unrelated to the heat of the day. A tiny jet of steam shot out of the gears on the right side of his head.

            “Who…?” Silver muttered to himself, bemused and slightly embarrassed. Rubbing his nose, he delicately picked the flower up and breathed in its heavenly scent. Faces flitted across his mind. Who could be leaving these flowers for him? He knew what they meant, and was flustered, yet flattered. There were several regulars to his shop who all seemed to like him quite a bit, but none of them had ever left flowers for him before.

            Suddenly, Silver could see a pair of bright blue eyes staring back at him. Blinking furiously, he tried to clear the image from his mind. Could it be the young man he had just met a few weeks ago? He looked doubtfully down at the cluster of lilac flowers in his metal fingers and pursed his lips, then unlocked the door to his apartment and climbed the stairs.

            The lilac sprigs were complemented by the gold of the wilting sunflower next to them on the windowsill. Silver sat on his bed and stared at the flowers, chin in his organic hand. He rubbed his cybernetic fingers over his organic bicep, remembering how Jim’s eyes had fixed on the tattoo and how the young man’s mouth had fallen open. Briefly, he wondered what Jim’s face would look like if he could see the blue and purple galaxy of tiny stars and nebulas spread over his back. Silver swallowed and stood up too quickly, almost falling over.

            “What’s happenin’ t’ me?” He growled, stomping across his room. Grumbling in an irritated way, he untied his apron and pulled off his shirt, throwing them both into a laundry basket. His pants caught briefly on his cybernetic leg as he tried to pull himself free. On his way to the bathroom, he grabbed a rubber glove from on top of his dresser and pulled it onto his cybernetic hand.

            Hot water and steam issued from the tap when Silver turned it on, and he plunked a large bucket down under the flow. The big man sat on a stool underneath the unused showerhead and pulled the bucket toward him, reaching for a bar of soap and a cloth. Even through the glove, when he dipped the sponge into the bucket, synthetic nerves in his metal hand told him that the water was a good temperature. He rubbed the sponge over the bar of soap, then began to scrub himself thoroughly.

            Bubbles appeared in the patch of chestnut colored curls on his chest. He scrubbed briskly under his organic arm, then across his large belly. Smoothing suds over the tapestry on his arm, Silver closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth. Suddenly, it was too warm. His eyes flew open and saw fire. A hand reached out to him, small and desperate, and _just barely too far away…_

            Silver jolted awake, having slipped off his stool onto the tiled floor. Blinking in confusion, he laboriously got to his mismatched feet, then picked up a cup lying next to the stool, filled it with water, and dumped it down his front. Soap bubbles ran down the drain as he poured more water over himself. Finally clean, he picked up the soap, stomped over the sink, and bent over. He turned the handle for cold water. Water rushed over his hair, and he angled his neck carefully so the water wouldn’t get into the gears on the side of his head. He soaped his hair, then rinsed.

            Shaking his head like a dog, Silver stood and turned off the water. He pulled a fluffy towel from a stack on the shelf, gently drying the gears on his head, and walked over to the window, looking up at the sky.

            Quite a bit of time must have passed while he had been asleep, since darkness had fallen outside the window and a crescent moon was shining. Stars and planets twinkled against the dark blue of the galaxy.

            Silver pulled the glove off his cybernetic hand in a distracted manner, still staring through the window. After a minute, he turned away and flopped onto his bed, looking at the two vases of flowers silhouetted against the night sky. He closed his eyes again, and fire roared around him while the tang of hot metal assaulted his nose. Fear clenched around his heart like a fist. All of a sudden, he could feel a wrist, fragile and thin, grasped tightly in his organic hand, and the fist around his heart loosened.

            Breathing deeply, he tried to empty his mind. When it was as blank as he could make it, he rolled onto his side, and fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

            Silver’s ear pricked as the door to the shop creaked open. It had been a week since he had seen the young man who made him dream strange things, and he was curious about where he had gone. Looking over his shoulder, Silver met a pair of wide, vibrant blue eyes. Forcefully reminded of a small animal exposed to unexpected light, he chuckled and turned to face Jim.

            “Well look who we have ‘ere!” Silver exclaimed in false surprise. “Where’ve ye been, Jimbo? Did ya go on vacation?” Jim grinned tiredly and dropped onto a small stool by a bucket of lurid yellow flowers.

            “This past week was exam week,” he explained, rubbing his eyes, “We just finished our last exam.” He looked up into Silver’s face, still smiling, and Silver noticed that his eyes were a little bloodshot.

            “How much sleep have ye been gettin’?” Silver asked. Jim raised his eyes to the ceiling, carefully avoiding eye contact.

            “I haven’t really been able to sleep the past couple nights,” he admitted, looking vaguely guilty. Silver eyed him.

            “Would you be willin’ to tell an old man why?” He said, painstakingly keeping his voice and face neutral as he clipped the end of a red rose, then set it back into its bucket. Sneaking a glance at the young man, Silver saw him blush very faintly.

            “I, uh... have been having... bad dreams,” Jim muttered. Silver blinked.

            “Bad dreams?” He asked, turning to face Jim again. He met the young man’s gaze, and saw a pinprick of golden light from his cybernetic eye reflected back at him. Jim nodded. Putting his face in his hands, he sighed.

            “I had another one last night,” he confessed, “I can’t remember a lot, but there was so much fire...” Silver dropped his clippers with a loud clunk and he bent over hastily to pick them up. “And I felt like I was falling,” Jim continued, apparently oblivious to Silver’s movement, “Then something caught me, and I felt so relieved...” He turned to look at Silver, who was staring back at him, eyes wide. Silver coughed slightly, and grinned.

            “I had m’self a similar dream last night, actually,” he said, busying himself with the flowers again. He heard Jim inhale sharply. “Mayhap it was the heat,” Silver said casually. Jim looked unconvinced, but stayed quiet.

            They stayed in comfortable silence for a while, then Jim stood up, muttered a goodbye, and left. Silver stared after him, trying to squash the twinge of disappointment that welled inside him as the door swung shut.

 

* * *

 

 

            The next day, Silver had barely turned the ‘Closed’ sign to ‘Open’, when Jim’s face appeared in the window. He grinned shyly and entered the shop.

            “Mornin’ Jimbo,” Silver yawned, “Why’re ye here so early?” Jim gave him a sheepish look.

            “Well, cause I’m on vacation now, and I like this place,” he said, almost defiantly, “And I want to learn how to arrange flowers.”

            Silver paused, confused by the strange leap in his stomach at the idea of spending more time with the young man.

            “How old are ye, laddy?” Silver asked, trying to sound natural. Jim’s chin went up.

            “I’m twenty-two,” he said, sounding insulted.

            “Calm down, lad, I’m not good wi’ knowin’ someone’s age by lookin’ at ‘em,” Silver grunted. Jim flushed, looking sheepish again.

            “Sorry,” Jim mumbled, “I’m used to people thinking I’m just a kid.” Silver smiled wryly.

            “Ah, Jimbo, but ye ARE just a kid. Stay young as long as ye can.”

            Jim looked at him and their eyes met. Silver felt an unbidden heat creep up his neck, and swiveled away.

            “Alright, laddy, ye can stick around and help me when I need ya to,” he said to the counter. The floor creaked a bit as Jim jumped to his feet.

            “What can I do?” he asked. Silver tried not to look too pleased, and handed the young man a small pair of clippers.

            “Ye can prune the dead leaves off those plants o’er there,” he said, pointing to a bunch of potted flowers. Jim hurried to oblige, and Silver watched him begin to clip leaves off the first stalk. A happy smile played over Jim’s mouth. Silver’s eyes lingered on the young man’s lips, then he growled quietly to himself and returned to his work.

            They spent the day working together, Jim helping out when Silver needed an extra hand. The only sticky moment happened when Silver was fumbling with a ribbon as he tried to tie a bouquet. He grumbled as the ribbon slid out of his fingers again.

            “Jimbo, c’mere and put yer finger on this fer me,” he said. Jim hurried over and put his finger on the ribbon, holding it in place, then he stiffened. Silver paused, and their eyes met.

 

            Jim tried to inhale as his breath caught in his chest. Silver was so close, and Jim could smell flowers and a faint, smoky musk emanating from him. He gasped slightly as their eyes met, and for a moment, he saw stars. Tearing his eyes away, he looked down. The big man’s body heat radiated out from his suede-like skin, and Jim caught himself leaning forward, wondering what it would feel like if he reached out and ran his fingertips over the broad forearm in front of him.

            “Aand... yer done!” Silver finished tying the bow and grinned. Jim looked up at him again, then practically jumped away, blushing scarlet. He mumbled something about being happy to help and walked quickly to the other side of the shop.

 

            Silver waited until Jim was engrossed in clipping more dead leaves off the plants before letting out the breath he had been holding. He rubbed his cybernetic hand over the forearm where he could still feel his skin prickling. The lad’s gaze had been so intense and wistful at the same time.

 

            The clock chimed four. Jim started slightly and glanced at his watch.

            “Whoa, I’ve been here the whole day!” He exclaimed, sounding impressed.

            “Before ye head off, lad,” Silver bent behind the counter and opened a tiny fridge, pulling out two beers. “Yer old enough to have ye a drink, right?” He held one of the beers to Jim, who eyed it apprehensively for a moment, then grinned.

            “Sure, thanks,” he said, accepting the cold bottle. Silver walked around him, cybernetic leg creaking, and switched the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed’. His leg creaked again as he made his way back to the counter and sat down. Jim followed suit, staring curiously at the cybernetic limb. Silver popped the lid off his bottle with his mechanical hand and leaned over to open Jim’s. Settling back with a sigh, Silver noticed Jim’s stare.

            “I’ve been meaning t’ get that checked out,” he said, taking a sip of his beer. Jim hesitated, took a drink from his own bottle, then shot Silver a furtive glance.

            “Can I, uh, maybe...” he mumbled, gesturing toward Silver’s leg. Silver looked surprised.

            “Ye wan’ t’ take a gander? Go ahead.” He leaned back in his chair and stretched out his cybernetic leg, groaning slightly. Jim slid out of his chair, placing his beer next to his stool. Carefully, he picked up the metal limb, moving and examining it with such focus that he didn’t notice Silver cover his eyes with his organic hand as soon as his fingers touched the metal. Jim moved the leg a certain way and it creaked. Silver let out a tiny moan.

            “Did that hurt?” Jim asked, then his eyes widened. “Wait, can you feel-” he broke off, mortified, and promptly dropped the leg. Silver uncovered his eyes for a moment to look at Jim.

            “Every bit,” he rumbled, covering his face again. “It aches somethin’ fierce when th’ joints get too tight.” Jim stared at him, then looked back at the leg.

            “I, uh... may I?” He asked awkwardly. Silver grunted, still covering his eyes. Jim took the leg in his hands again, now painfully aware that the big man could feel his touch, but he continued his meticulous examination. After another moment, he let go of the leg and sat back on his heels.

            “This disk here,” he said, tapping the piece in question, “Is loose and it’s been sliding around, making that squeaking noise. It should be tightened up a bit. Also, these sets of gears,” he poked the leg in two other places, “Need a good oiling.” Silver sat up and gave him a strange look.

            “How did ye figure all that out?” He asked. “I’ve had this rig for a good couple o’ years and still have trouble figurin’ out what th’ problems are.” Jim shrugged and got back onto his stool, taking another sip of his beer.

            “I tinkered around with a lot of mechanics when I was younger. I’ve always had an interest in cybernetics, but I’ve never seen any with acute sensory capabilities before.” The young man shot a wary glance at the metal limb. Silver nodded.

            “A friend o’ mine created these fer me,” he said. “Made ‘em specially after I had me accident.” Jim opened his mouth, reconsidered, and took another drink. Silver didn’t elaborate. They sat in silence for a while, finishing their drinks, and when Jim was done, he stood up and stretched.

            “Is it alright if I come back tomorrow?” He asked, scratching the tip of his nose. “If I have the right tools for that leg I can bring them with me.” Silver grinned toothy at him.

            “Aye, lad, I’d like that,” he said, also getting to his feet.

            “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Jim said, casting a shy smile over his shoulder as he pushed open the door. Silver waved as he walked past the window, and Jim waved back. When he was gone, Silver sighed heavily.

            “What are ye getting yerself into, old man,” he murmured to himself, still feeling the ghosts of gentle fingers running over his metal leg.


	3. Chapter 3

            The next day Jim was back. He tightened the loose disk in Silver’s leg and assisted him in getting oil into the smallest, hardest-to-reach gears. When he was done, Silver got to his feet and walked the length of the shop. His leg made its usual mechanical humming and didn’t creak at all.

            “Aye, ye have magical fingers Jimbo,” Silver said, grinning. Jim blushed and shrugged, muttering something inaudible. Silver reached out and ruffled the young man’s hair affectionately, and they continued their work.

            Every afternoon, Silver and Jim would sit together after the shop had closed and talk for a while. They discussed shop business, town matters, Jim’s school life, and anything else they could think of. Jim became more comfortable and more expressive with each day he spent in the shop. His face lit up every morning when he pushed the shop door open and saw Silver, and he seemed less willing to leave in the afternoons. Silver became accustomed to having the young man around, even when they spent entire days mostly without speaking.

 

* * *

          

            One Saturday, Jim and Silver sat together in the flower shop, drinking beer and sitting in comfortable quiet. The clock chimed five, and Silver shifted in his seat.

            “Jimbo,” Silver said, looking at the young man, “I’m plannin’ a day off tomorrow, and I was wonderin’ if ye’d like t’ come visit a botanical garden wit’ me.” Jim looked startled, but recovered quickly.

            “I, uh, sure!” He said, sounding confused but excited. “Why?”

            Silver glanced out of the window.

            “I thought ye might enjoy a good day out since we’re always cooped up in here, and since ye like flowers so much,” he said casually, “And I’ll pay for ya.”

            Jim started to protest but Silver cut him off.

            “Lad, ye have been workin’ fer me fer th’ past two weeks, and I haven’t even been payin’ ya. I t’ink ye deserve a day out.”

            Jim stared at him for a moment, then nodded.

            “Alright, I would be down to go,” Jim said, looking excited again. “Should I meet you here tomorrow? What time?” Silver chuckled.

            “How about ten o’ clock?”

            “Sure, I can make that,” Jim said, getting to his feet. “See you at ten!”

            Silver watched the young man bound past the window, and smiled at the huge grin on his face.

 

* * *

 

 

            Sunlight was already hot on Jim’s skin as he jogged toward the flower shop. Silver came into view, standing outside the shop, and Jim slowed to a walk, suddenly embarrassed. At the sound of his footsteps, Silver turned, looking pleased.

            “There ye are Jimbo,” he exclaimed.

            Jim gulped, seeing that Silver was wearing a tank top again. The flowers tattooed into Silver’s bicep were still just as breathtaking as the first time he had seen them.

            “Are ye alright, lad?” Silver bent slightly, gazing into his face. “Ye look worried.”

            Jim rearranged his face into an unconvincing smile.

            “I’m fine,” he said, determinedly not looking at Silver’s arm.

            Silver raised a quizzical eyebrow but decided not to press him further.

            “C’mon, lad, this way.”

            Silver and Jim walked through the city, moving between small crowds already out for some morning shopping. They walked for about half an hour, heading toward the waterfront.

            Silver joked and haggled with the humanoid selling tickets, Jim hovering uncertainly by his elbow while he paid for two ferry passes.

            They made their way up to the top deck, Silver following a few steps behind Jim. Jim stopped at the rail, leaning on the metal, and looking out at the lake. Silver stopped beside him. Sighing, Silver made to also lean on the rail, then stopped, gazing at the young man beside him.

            Jim had gone slightly rigid, his expression glazed over. Silver looked out over the lake where the young man was staring, and suddenly he thought he could see stars in the blue sky. He shook his head and put his hand gently on Jim’s shoulder.

            The young man looked up at him, eyes still glazed. He pursed his lips and Silver heard him whistling a faint tune that he could almost recognize.

            “I’m fine,” he said in a dreamy voice, and turned back to the railing. The ferry began to move. Silver closed his eyes at the feeling of wind in his hair, and sighed again. As the scent of salt and space rock drifted through his senses, he let his mind succumb to the vision of nebulae dancing before his eyes.

            Silver jerked a bit when the ferry stopped, temporarily disoriented, then he shook his head and looked down at Jim. The young man was still gazing out at the lake, but he blinked furiously as Silver watched. Bright blue eyes met mismatched ones, and both pairs seemed to be surprised to find the other looking. Silver coughed and broke the eye contact.

            “Almost there Jimbo,” he said, heading for the stairs that lead to the bottom deck. Jim followed him, rubbing the tip of his nose in a bemused way.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And it's finally heating up a lil~ :D

            The entrance building to the botanical garden was a large and stately manor house. Tall walls stretched out from either side of it, encompassing a very large area. Jim could barely see the tops of what looked like huge glass greenhouses in the garden beyond the wall. He bounced a little bit while Silver paid for the passes, then they entered the building. The inside of the building was as stately and old fashioned as the outside, and Jim noticed a gift shop, information desk, and bathrooms before they passed through the back door. When they got outside, however, he promptly forgot about everything else.

            A huge sprawling lawn stretched between where Jim stood and the glass greenhouses. The glass panes glittered in the midday sun, almost blinding Jim. A winding walkway ran between giant beds of the most brightly colored flowers Jim had ever seen. Silver pointed out the varieties he knew and the ones he didn’t as they walked down the path. Strolling toward the first greenhouse, Jim could hardly keep himself from jumping into the blooms. Silver watched him with amusement.

            On a whim, Jim veered off just before reaching the greenhouses and took a path toward the maze of tall blossoms near one of the walls. He disappeared in the impossibly high rows of sunflowers, roses, and other alien flowers, leaving Silver to look around, confused.

            “Lad?” Silver called huskily. Hearing no response, he stomped after Jim, muttering under his breath.

 

            Jim giggled to himself, ducking under the spreading leaves of some strange plant and listening to Silver’s heavy, mismatched footsteps. He saw the big man move in the direction of a large stand of beautifully pink roses, and followed the silhouette, trying to muffle his footsteps. Silver had stopped in front of the roses, looking up at them in a sort of awe. Jim could see the broad chest moving as Silver inhaled deeply, reaching up to run a gentle fingertip over the soft petals. Jim couldn’t believe that he was jealous of a plant. He straightened and walked past the wall of flowers that was hiding him, then stopped in his tracks, breathless.

            Silver had turned at the sound of his boots on the path, organic hand settled on his stomach, flushing slightly. He gave Jim a shy smile, and Jim felt his heart leap into his mouth. It seemed that the sun had picked just that instant to reappear from behind a cloud, because Silver was suddenly cloaked in a beautiful golden light. It filtered through the roses wreathing his head, and bounced off the hoop in his ear. For a moment, Jim saw sparkles.

            Rubbing his eyes, Jim looked again, his face hot from something besides the sun. The sparkles had faded but Silver was still wreathed in the tall roses, looking like a large, cyborg angel. Jim gaped and rubbed his eyes again.

            “Are ye sure ye’re alright?” Silver asked anxiously, stepping away from the flowers. His expression was so concerned that Jim had to laugh. His voice sounded weak when he replied, “Yes, I’m fine.” He ran distracted fingers through his hair. “Let’s go look in the greenhouses.”

           

            The greenhouses contained a variety of beautiful and strange plants, and one housed a huge number of butterflies. Silver could not stop chuckling when one very large and brightly colored specimen landed directly on Jim’s nose and refused to leave for more than thirty seconds. Jim was bright red when it finally flew off, and would not speak to Silver until he stopped chuckling. They spent another couple of hours wandering around the gardens and appreciating the flowers before they left.

           

            Back on the ferry, the glazed look returned to Jim’s eyes. Silver watched him for a moment, then he too leaned on the rail and let the images of stars wash over him. They arrived on the other shore of the lake, both slightly dazed. Jim looked up at Silver and they shared an almost understanding glance, then they began to walk in the direction of the flower shop. Halfway there, Silver grasped Jim by the arm and wheeled him down a side road.

            “Don’t ye look at me like that,” Silver said gruffly. “How’s about I treat ya to a late lunch?” Jim looked at his watch. Silver noticed this and grinned. “Or mayhap call it an early dinner,” he amended, holding a door open for Jim. Muttering his thanks, Jim stepped inside.

            A delicious smell met his nose, wiping any lingering doubts from his mind. He inhaled, trying to sort out the different smells, but could barely distinguish one from another until the scent of flowers and musk filtered into his senses. He jumped when a large hand met the small of his back, having forgotten that Silver was standing behind him.

            “Move lad, my backside is gettin’ cold.” Jim let out a surprised laugh and walked farther into the shop.

            The room was dimly lit and extremely smoky, with a grubby looking counter toward the back. Several small tables and chairs were set haphazardly around the room, looking old and a bit rickety.

            The raspiest voice Jim had ever heard issued suddenly from behind the counter.

            “What’ll it be?” It asked. Jim started and took a step back, only to collide with the firm warmth of Silver’s belly. He jumped forward, gasping a hasty apology. Silver and the raspy voice both laughed. Reaching out a large hand, Silver drew Jim safely out of harm’s way and stepped forward.

            “I’ll have th’ kebabs, if ya please,” he said in a friendly tone.

            “As ye always do,” the raspy voice replied. “And fer th’ young’un?”

Silver glanced down at Jim, who was firmly pressed against Silver’s side and stuttering furiously.

            “Jus’ get him th’ same,” Silver said, chuckling. Jim could barely breathe, yet he couldn’t stop himself from savoring the feeling of the chuckle rippling through Silver’s body. He thought his head was going to burst into flames. Wriggling out from under Silver’s arm, he took a deep breath.

            “Oh, sorry Jimbo, was I squishin’ ya?” Silver was looking down at him, organic eye sparkling with suppressed laughter. Jim’s response was interrupted by the raspy voice.

            “Anythin’ to drink?” It asked.

            “Water, if ya please,” Silver said, dropping several coins into a palm that looked surprisingly like his own. Jim watched the wrinkled, thick-fingered hand withdraw into the smoke, and heard whispered counting.

            “Oh c’mon, I’ve never once cheated ye before, ya mistrustful-” Silver complained, but was cut off by the raspy voice.

            “Ye did once, sonny,” the voice snapped, full of poorly hidden glee. Silver groaned.

            “That was an accident!” The hand appeared again, pearly gray suede-like skin glimmering in the dim light. It handed Silver a large paper bag.

            “That’ll be all then,” the voice grunted. Silver smiled cheekily at the speaker.

            “Pleasure doin’ business with ya, as always,” he said, then pulled Jim out of the shop.

            “Aye lad,” he said as soon as they had sat themselves down outside the shop, “Ye’ve never tasted kebabs like this before.” Jim still was lost for words, but he took the stick that Silver offered him, biting into the first vegetable.

            “Mmm!” He exclaimed, mouth full. Silver nodded, also chewing. He swallowed.

            “I told ya,” he said, grinning. Jim took another big bite, wide eyes directed at Silver with growing respect.

            “This is so good,” Jim practically moaned, finishing his first stick then taking a second. Silver didn’t even respond; his mouth was so full Jim didn’t think he could’ve made a noise if he’d wanted to.

            They ate the rest of their food in silence, enjoying the delicious and spicy flavors. When they were done, they stood, threw away the bag and sticks, and began to walk back toward the flower shop.

            “Jimbo,” Silver said, stopping by the shop door, “Did ye have a good day today?” The sun had already begun to set, red-orange light casting dark shadows over Silver’s face as he looked down at Jim. Jim looked back at him and smiled.

            “I really did, thanks so much for treating me.” Jim couldn’t really tell because of the light, but he thought he saw a flush rise in Silver’s cheeks.

            “Aw, lad, ye deserve it, ye’ve been workin’ hard the past couple weeks.” He rubbed the back of his neck in an embarrassed way. “Will ye wait here fer a moment?” Jim nodded, and Silver unlocked the door, slipping inside. He returned a moment later, holding something in his hand.

            “Stick yer hands out an’ close yer eyes,” Silver commanded. Jim closed his eyes and cautiously put out his hands.

            “Now don’t move,” he heard Silver’s voice say. Suddenly his heart began to beat faster. He smelled flowers and the faint musk that hung around Silver at all times. He could feel Silver draw closer to him, and his breath caught in his chest. His mind went blank.

            Something cold rested behind his ear, then something small met his palm. He lifted his free hand to touch the flower Silver had tucked behind his ear. It had too many petals for Jim to count, and he made to remove it so he could investigate, but Silver tutted and pushed his hand away. Jim then noticed the tiny potted plant in his hand. Several tiny, white, star-shaped flowers were growing in the soil. He recognized the blooms from his flower language book and blushed.

            “I, uh...” he mumbled. Silver shook his head and rested his organic hand on Jim’s shoulder. The warmth seeped through Jim’s jacket into his skin.

            “Thanks fer comin’ out with me today, Jimbo.” Silver’s voice was a deep rumble in his chest. Jim could hardly speak, but he nodded, pleased and very embarrassed. Silver stared into his eyes for a moment, then gasped very slightly and pulled away.

            “See ya later, lad. Be safe on yer way home. G’night.”

            “G’night, Silver,” Jim replied, and turned to go home. He stopped, pulling the flower out of his hair, and took a moment to look at the bloom. He felt his face burning. The flower was a white camellia, and the flowers growing in the pot were mossy saxifrage.

            Jim leaned against a nearby building and hugged the flowers to his chest, blushing furiously.

 

            _He thinks I’m adorable!_

 

            Jim covered his mouth with his free hand and started off toward home, trying to calm his racing heart.

 

* * *

 

 

            Silver stood in his apartment, feeling lost and confused. He had seen the setting sun reflect in Jim’s eyes, and suddenly he had remembered the eyes he had seen in a dream, just as wide and blue as Jim’s had been as they looked up at him just minutes before. He had seen the same trust in them as he had seen in the dream. Rubbing his own eyes, he sat down on his bed, and put his head in his hands.

 

            _I'm too old for him,_ Silver thought. _This young pup has got me all turned around, but…_

He opened his eyes and looked down at his cybernetic leg. Ghostly fingers ran over the metal as his synthetic nerves sang. He stretched the leg, barely able to remember the feeling of organic muscles. When he focused hard enough he could feel the cogs and gears moving together, feel the warmth of the metal and the tightness of the joints. The top of Jim’s head swam into view in his mind, and he watched again as the deft hands slid over the metal of his leg, fingertips soft and steady. Blue eyes looked up into his own, wide and trusting.

            Silver moaned in frustration, cursing himself and the lad that made him feel things he hadn’t felt in years. A soft jingle followed the moan, and he felt himself drowning in sparkling stars and wide blue eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short update~

            A couple days passed before Silver saw Jim again. The sky was bright but cloudy, and the day was mild. Silver was sweeping the floor of his shop, humming to himself, when he saw someone walk by the window. He paused to watch the door handle turn. 

            Jim stepped into the shop, and made to close the door behind him. He faced Silver and brushed his bangs out of his eyes, smiling shyly. 

            "Hey, can I help out today?" He asked. Silver grinned.

            "Sure lad, ye can water the sunset arrangements." 

            Jim walked over and picked up a watering can, then went to the sunset colored flowers and tipped the watering can over them. Silver stared at the young man's hands as they gripping the metal handle, entranced by the way his thin fingers seemed to effortlessly hold the heavy can. Huffing in embarrassment, Silver returned to sweeping the floor.

            They spent the rest of the day chatting and working together. When the clock chimed four they closed the shop together, then stepped outside into the weak sunshine. Jim turned to look at Silver, and met his mismatched gaze. Silver was watching him with a curious expression on his face. Jim opened his mouth to speak, then stopped. His face turned pink. 

            "Is there something ye wanna tell me, lad?" Silver asked. 

            "I, uh..." Jim mouthed wordlessly for a moment, then his face closed. Silver almost took a step back in surprise. 

            "I can't," Jim whispered, looking miserable, then he turned and walked away. Silver watched, in shock, as he disappeared around the corner. He felt as if something had punched him hard in the stomach. Breathing shakily, he fumbled with the lock on his door, and stomped up the stairs. He dropped heavily onto his bed, and stared at the wilted flowers on his windowsill, completely at a loss. 

 

           _What was that about?_ He thought. _What can't he tell me? Why did he looks so... sad?_

 

            He ran distracted fingers over the tattoo on his arm, mind wandering, then he got up to stare out of the window.

 

* * *

 

 

            Three weeks passed. Jim had not returned to the flower shop at all, and Silver was feeling decidedly listless. It was the first time he had felt so discontented with his work in many years. Each day seemed to be longer and go by more slowly. The flowers didn't look quite as bright as they used to, and Silver spoke less and less. A few customers asked him if he was feeling alright, and he always pulled a convincing smile onto his face and said that of course, he was fine.  

            He felt vaguely lost, and often found himself staring out of the window for long periods of time. His dreams were plagued with fire, fear, and a terrible, angry longing for something he could almost picture in his mind. When he closed his eyes, he could see the glitter of gold and starry galaxies drifting in front of him. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and finally...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short update~

           One stormy afternoon, a loud clap of thunder woke Silver from his stupor. He glanced out the window and saw a fork of lighting dance across the sky. Rain pounded against the shop window. He wasn't even sure why he was still in the shop; no one in their right mind would be shopping in a storm. 

           Standing, Silver made to take off his glasses, and froze. Peering through the window, he tried to see outside while his breath fogged the glass. He could've sworn someone had walked by. Shaking his head, he placed his glasses on the counter and sighed. 

           The door burst suddenly open, and Jim strode into the shop, sopping wet and looking furious. His skin was several shades darker than before and his hair was plastered to his forehead. The shirt he was wearing clung to his chest, showing lines of lean muscle.

           He stood, breathing heavily for a moment, then he stomped forward and smacked a handful of wet and rather limp flowers onto the counter. Silver stared at them, temporarily speechless.

           "You," Jim gasped faintly, then he leaned on the counter, coughing. Silver found his tongue. 

           "Are ye alright lad?" Jim made frantic shushing movements with his hands, breathing deeply. After a minute, he seemed to regain his breath. 

           "I thought..." Jim began, still sounding faint. "I thought that being away might change... that I might forget..." he shook his head, water flying everywhere, and met Silver's gaze, eyes softening. 

           "Every... goddamn... day..." he whispered. "I couldn't get you out of my head." He turned scarlet, but plowed on. 

           "Since the beginning... Uh, I started having strange dreams after I met you. You literally made me see stars!" Jim laughed, but he sounded a bitter. "I almost feel like I've met you before... Well, I can't stop thinking about you, and I, uh... well, it's not entirely appropriate, but here." He gestured at the flowers. Silver took a second look at the blossoms, and felt heat creep up his neck. 

           The flowers leaking water onto the counter were jonquils and red tulips. The colors were too gaudy to fit each other properly, but the meaning was entirely clear. Silver looked back at Jim, who was the color of the tulips, and felt the tight fist under his sternum loosen and disappear. He sighed shakily, and rubbed his hand over his face.

           "Lad, ye gave me a good scare. I thought I had done somethin' to make ye angry and ye were done comin' back. I didn't expect..." he trailed off, unsure of what to say. Jim looked at him anxiously. 

           "Your answer?" He whispered. A broad smile split Silver's face and he chuckled until his belly began to jiggle. 

           "As if I could resist that face o' yers lad. Ye make me see stars too." He leaned across the counter and took Jim's face gently in his mismatched hands, then paused, a twinge of doubt tugging at his mind.

           "Feel free to stop me at any time, lad." Jim rolled his bright blue eyes and yanked out of the big man's grip. He dashed around the counter and pulled Silver's face down to his, kissing him fiercely, and after a moment of hesitation, Silver responded with a warmth that left him breathless once again. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the end~

           "Aye, I do believe I've been wantin' to do that for a while now," Silver croaked after they separated. Jim's pink face contorted for a moment, and Silver thought he might start to cry, but instead he sneezed. 

           "Ye'll catch a cold because of me," Silver groaned. He pushed Jim toward the door, grumbling the entire way. Outside in the pouring rain, Silver quickly locked the shop and pulled Jim to his apartment door, unlocking it and ushering the young man inside. Jim made it to the top of the stairs and stopped, shivering violently. 

           "Out o' the way, lad," Silver moved him gently to the side, and rummaged through his drawers looking for a smaller garment. He turned, sweater in hand, just in time to see Jim dreamily pulling off his wet shirt. Flushing, Silver walked over and handed Jim the sweater, trying not to stare at the young man's tanned chest. Jim yanked the sweater over his head, eyes still glazed. Silver stopped and picked up the wet shirt that Jim had dropped. Straightening, he saw Jim hoisting up the sweater to unbuckle his belt. His face felt hot as he turned quickly away. A moment later he heard the soft thud of wet cloth hitting the floor. Jim waited for Silver to turn around and tried to take the wet shirt from him. Silver shook his head and tugged the wet pants from Jim's grip. 

           "Stay here," he said, and left to put the clothes into the dryer. He returned a moment later and found Jim standing exactly where he had been when Silver left, staring at the dying flowers on windowsill. 

           "I left those for you," Jim murmured, looking dazed. Silver walked over to him, and lifted his chin, staring carefully into the bright blue eyes. 

           "I thought so," he whispered, and carefully pressed his lips against Jim's, savoring the sigh that escaped the young man. Jim grasped at Silver's shoulders and stood on his toes, trying to press himself closer to the warm body in front of him. After a moment, Silver gently pushed him away, and tugged off his own damp shirt. He turned back to the drawer to get himself a dry one, and he heard Jim gasp. Grinning, he rummaged in the drawer, but the feeling of soft hands on his back made him stop dead. 

           Jim stared in awe at the galaxy spread across Silver's back. He placed his palms against the smooth, suede-like skin, and leaned closer, carefully investigating the map of tiny white stars in the deep blue-purple of the tattoo. Leaning forward slowly, Jim pressed his lips to the skin. Silver shivered and spun around, encasing Jim in his arms and hoisting him up. Jim gasped and flung his arms around Silver's neck, kissing him enthusiastically. Blissful moments passed before they separated again, and Silver sat Jim on the bed. 

          "Yer gonna have to sleep here lad, it's late and th' weather is terrible." Jim nodded and lay back in the bed, looking dreamy. Silver looked at the shirt he had dropped and decided to leave it on the floor. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should sleep on the floor, but Jim held out a pleading hand. Silver smiled wryly and climbed into the bed with the young man, sighing as Jim rested his head on Silver's organic bicep. Jim ran his fingers through the curly hair on Silver's chest and sighed with contentment. 

           "I feel..." Jim whispered, then paused, clearing his throat. "I feel like I said goodbye to you for real once, like in a dream," he murmured. "Like I saw you speeding away from me and would've given anything for you to come back, but you didn't..." Silver placed a kiss on Jim's damp hair. 

           "Aye lad, but if it happened, I know I woulda wanted nothin' more than t' come back t' ye." Jim blushed and looked up at the ceiling, then pointed up at the empty expanse. 

           "Do you see those stars?" He asked quietly. Silver looked, and he definitely thought could see a faint sparkle far beyond his ceiling. 

           He turned his head and met Jim's gaze. In Jim's eyes, he could see stars that were brighter and clearer than any he had seen before. Leaning forward, he kissed the young man on the lips. 

           "All th' stars I care about are th' ones in yer lamps, lad. G'night."  

           "G'night, Silver." Jim smiled sweetly and nestled closer to the big man, and a few minutes later, his breathing slowed and steadied. Silver closed his eyes and drifted off, and they both dreamed of flying, sailing on the winds of the Etherium. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read and leave me kudos/comments if you like it!


End file.
